Clean Up, Line 3!

With our team at work spanning from the north east to the west coast and all places in between, the days are much more likely to consist of multiple conference calls than in person meetings.   This inevitably leads to the number of meeting delays as we wait for team members to join the call.  During these lulls in productivity our team members get to know each other and discuss critical subjects such as the importance of using a Wild Draw 4 card to teach kids a valuable crushing lesson when playing Uno.  The start of conference calls has become the virtual water cooler if you will.   It was during these times that the team became aware that Esther has a tremendous fear of flying.  Here is the rest of the story. 

It was late spring in Lubbock Texas and Esther was taking another flying lesson.  She had progressed to the ‘without instruments’ training stage.  The problem with this particular lesson is the speed with which spring storms come roaring across the open plains of west Texas.   It got rough fast.   Very fast.  The little Cessna was now bouncing around with only the language between the flight instructor and Esther being rougher than the air pockets they were flying through.  Coming in for the approach, the wings swinging wildly due to the cross winds, the instructor gave the ever encouraging, “I’m not sure we are going to get out of this one.”   Well the plane did touch down, and touch down safely, but not without ripping the desire to be a Naval Aviator from Esther’s dreams.  From that stormy spring day in 1998 to 2015, Esther would only fly one more time, but plenty of drinks, tears and a death grip on lucky charms (not the cereal) got her through that honeymoon flight.   From that time forward if she couldn’t drive to the location she didn’t go.  Our team knew of this fear and was now aware that Esther had summoned up the courage to brave flying with her daughters.  Little did we know the conference call story this would lead to.

This past July brought a series of events that then changed Esther’s travel experiences.  Joe, Esther’s husband, was selected for a month’s worth of training for work.  The kicker is the training was across the continent in Boston.  After weeks apart, Esther pushed aside her fear and decided to take herself and her two girls to see Joe and site see on the east coast.   It was a morning full of trepidation and nervousness when her parents dropped her and the girls off at the Oakland airport.  They understood how big of a moment this was for Esther getting over her fear as well as their granddaughters first flight.  Well that is when it all started.  Her parents stood smiling and waving goodbye, proud of Esther and the girls for facing their travel fears, as they snaked their way through the TSA line.  Little did they know what they would soon witness in security line 3. 

“Mom, I don’t feel good.”  

“You are just nervous, it will all be good.”

“Mom, I don’t feel good.”

“Don’t worry, it will be fine.”

It was right about the word ‘fine’ when the projectile vomiting began.  All over Esther.  Splattering on the floor.  Down the front of one daughter.  Across the carry-on luggage.    More on the floor.   It is hard to imagine that a nine year old’s stomach could hold so much?   As Esther tells it, “the vomiting just didn’t stop!”  Now pushing past horrified travelers to grab the next available grey bin to act as the sickness basin, they all learned the sound of thick liquid hitting against the TSA bin is something no one will soon forget.   

So there they are, at the very beginning of a cross country adventure using a discount roll of paper towels, supplied by the TSA leader at arm’s length, to wipe down their clothes and belongings as much as possible.  Bunches of damp paper towel filling the rest of the security bin.  

If there is a benefit to vomiting in the TSA line, it is they are very reluctant to give you a pat down screening following that activity.  Well, after living through the Cybil inspired security experience, there was nothing to the rest of the 5 hour flight to worry about.  It provided a much needed distraction to the collection of 17 years of built up flying fears.  The three of them made their way across the country and loved the east coast and seeing Joe for the first time in weeks.  Fortunately for them, the return trip was minus the same upset tummy dramatics. 

While our team expected some story to come out of the flight of fear trip, we couldn’t believe the path this adventure had gone down.  I think most of us could put ourselves in the soggy shoes of the ‘child sick at the worst time/location’ experience.  Parenthood making the story more painfully funny for many of us on the conference call team.

 

Clean up, line 3!